


Hipster Wizard, Novem Arkwright, at your service.

by Himi (greighish)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greighish/pseuds/Himi
Summary: My friend V and I are at work and he IMs me, asking me to give him the deets, a word picture, he writes, on a hipster wizard at Hogwarts. So, after some clarifications, we fix him down to a pure blood student-teacher.





	Hipster Wizard, Novem Arkwright, at your service.

**Author's Note:**

> Some caveats before I let you in on this. 1) I like HP, but I’m not an invested fan, so my knowledge is thin and waning since I haven't revisited the series since my movie marathon some years ago. 2) It’s been nigh a decade or two since I could rightfully call myself an anglophile, so my knowledge of British slang is probably dated and my usage is likely to be butchered. 3) I borrowed most of the first paragraph from a KnB fic I wrote. 4) My apologies to the hipsters. 5) This was written in, like, 20 minutes, but with frequent interruptions by hour-long calls unraveling customer woes (plus about 10 minutes of edits I made after pasting it here--about 4 minutes of actual edits and 6 minutes trying to remember what the edits were after I accidentally closed the tab before saving). 6) V hopes I continue this, but see #1 and #2.
> 
> That said, enjoy.

The briskness of winter had already been left behind, but April mornings still greeted Hogwarts with a chill in the air. This was perfect sleeping weather for Novem and Saturdays into Sundays were the best times to indulge in the experience. The heat turned off and him buried under all manner of sheets and blankets and comforters–it was the only way to do it. On this particular Sunday, when the ungodly screech that was his howler alarm reached its apex, Novem crawled from under his fabric shelter to greet the day. Or, afternoon, as it were. It took a minute for him to gather his wits about him and to realize there was someone talking on the other side of his door.

A voice that resonated with the timbre of annoyance bade him good morning in a most profane, but somehow endearing manner. With his wits still somewhat loose around him, he stumbled toward the sound. His pull at the handle revealed Joao Bitencourt in a black zip hoodie over a signed BECR band shirt, dark wash denim and black & white Chucks. He was stroking his full beard and looking as beleaguered as ever under his long black hair.

They’d met their first year of student-teaching, so... three years now. At the time, Novem was completely unaware that there was an exchange program between the schools and he'd thought he was being pranked when, Joao, looking lost, asked him where he could find "the tree." His suspicions were put to rest when Joao informed him that he was over from Ilvermorny student-teaching _herbalism_ \--to which Novem arched a brow--but that he'd also studied dendrology at a No-Maj school and was doing research for his thesis which was essentially a proposal to expand his major to include the lesser explored facets of plant life, thus, he wanted to see "the tree." On their way to the Whomping Willow, Novem learned that Joao was from a long line of Brazilian wizards and witches who excelled in scaring the youngsters into mastering their defenses against the Dark Arts at Castelobruxo, but he grew up in the United States and was more interested in digging in the dirt than driving off Dementors. It made him something of an outcast where his family was concerned, but what are you going to do?

“Dude,” Joao moaned. “Why are you just getting up?”

Novem, rubbed at his own 8 o'clock shadow and turned away. “I did a candida cleanse last night and it kinda knocked me for six, mate.” He turned back towards the door in time to see Joao’s eyes return from the back of his head. “Clear body, clear mind,” he explained with utmost sincerity.

“Whatever, dude. Just get a move on.” Joao waved him off as he tended to his phone.

Even though he had his own phone now, seeing Joao's thumb slide and tap across the lit screen still caught him a little off guard. He'd marveled at the device the first time Joao pulled it out in front of him; wondered if it'd aid him in his arithmantical research and wouldn't believe that it wasn't enchanted no matter how much Joao insisted to the contrary. Novem's reminiscing was interrupted when he heard Joao clear his throat.

"You're standing still."

"Oh, right. I’m gonna jump in the shower, get dressed, and then we’ll be off?”

“Cool.” A few seconds passed before Joao’s head snapped up and he asked, voice urgent, “Did you pick out your clothes yet?” A muffled “no” came down the hall. Joao’s jaw tightened in annoyance as he stood up and walked over to Novem’s closet. If there was a limit to how much time a person could spend picking out an outfit, Novem didn’t know anything about it, so Joao commenced to rummaging, sifting through the endless flannel shirts and argyle vests to find something suitable for investigating the disappearance of a shop in Diagon Alley.

* * *

When Novem saw an outfit arranged on his valet, he made to thank Joao, but was compelled to scoff instead. “You must be taking the piss; you can’t expect me to wear this.”

Without looking up from his phone, Joao replied, “I most certainly can.”

“I mean, the Juarez & Son Jesus fit in washed blue, the Trouseau Arch crew in Navy, and the Q5 slim fit broadcloth in white are really good picks, but I can’t wear them with the Helio Endo jacket. I’m not even going to mention the Helio Garvy leather belt. Though, the Lewis Tan Plain Toe Derbys are perfect.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you just said, but if you’re not dressed and ready in 10 minutes, I’m leaving without you.”

Novem thought it was weird how, regardless of the emotion being expressed, Joao's face remained firmly situated at malcontent. “You gotta understand.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Look. The designer for the Helio 2017 Spring line got a Welly up his arse after he tweeted some real rank shite about Mexicans. Right?”

Joao leaned back in the winged-back chair, folded his arms across his chest, and sighed. “Nine minutes?”

“Mate, Q5 is owned by a Mexican woman and a Black man. Trouseau is staple supporter of BLM. And Juarez & Son changed shipping companies because the company supported  _The Wall_.” Novem, still in a towel, continued to wave his hands around in an effort to get Joao to catch up. “This is all going on on your bloody continent. They’re  _your_  onions to know!”

“Why do you still have them if you’re half-boycotting the company?”

“…Well, I really like the jacket and I’m hoping he’ll reform himself somehow so that I can not feel guilty about wearing it. But he seems to be all mouth and no trousers, so I’m not holding my breath.”

“Dude.”

After another 15 minutes, all through which Joao groaned, Novem was finally ready to go. He’d settled on a navy blue twill newsboy cap that sat atop his head, exposing his shaved sides. Under a matching navy lightweight 4-pocket twill car coat he wore a pale blue cashmere vest that picked up the ticking along the collar of the white broadcloth button-down it covered. Under that was the heathered navy long sleeve crew neck tee. The button-down and the tee were tucked neatly into a pair of aggressively faded straight fit blue jeans with contrast stitching. The jeans were double cuffed to show his blue on blue argyle socks which looked great nestled in his gray leather brogues. The outfit was finished off with his standard black rimmed rectangular framed glasses and a soft navy leather belt.

“Right. No more wagging off, this is bound to be a knees up!”

Joao, already in the hall. “I’m out.”

“Wait” Novem shouted ask he skidded to a stop two inches from Joao who faced him with a glare. “How do I look,” he asked, his tone genuine, thankful that Joao wouldn't judge him for asking.

Joao eyed him from head to toe. “Blue.”

Novem sucked his teeth and huffed, his eyes rolling at Joao’s back as he walked away.

“Disastrous social conflicts averted” Joao asked over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Novem answered as he tried to catch up, amused by the obvious amusement in Joao’s voice.

“Alright then, fucker. Let’s be out.”


End file.
